Mr Cotton Listens
by Miss Ruby Tuesday
Summary: The things people will say when they know someone can't repeat it. Bit of a companion to Mr. Gibbs Gossips, but standalone.
1. Chapter 1

_Sure I own it. I also have a really awesome bridge in Brooklyn I'm looking to sell for cheap._

"She's just another silly woman, ain't she, mate? No great shakes, especially not in her bodice, eh?" Captain Jack Sparrow conspiratorially nudged Mr. Cotton.

Mr. Cotton, for his part, simply shrugged. He had no good answer for the captain's woman troubles. These days, the only person who had answer for anyone was his parrot.

"And besides, she ain't mine for the taking, savvy? Even if I wanted her, _which I don't_, she's Bootstrap's boy's girl. And while I'm not myself above a bit o' pirating of other men's goods, I don't need that strife upon my ship, what with his moping and sulking and all."

Mr. Cotton raised his eyebrows.

"Aye, you're right, mate... She ain't just another two bit whore to be trifled with. There's something different about how she is," Jack looked around, before dropping his voice considerable. "Don't tell another soul about that, Cotton. Can't have my reputation ruined for the likes of a stuck up little bit such as her."

Mr. Cotton nodded, gesturing to his bird-free shoulder. The blasted bird was probably off somewhere having a parley with that bloody, undead monkey.

"It's her, where my compass is pointing." Mr. Cotton's head popped up in surprise. "Oi, not all treasure is silver and gold, you know," he broke off.

Mr. Cotton waited expectantly.

"I suppose if I were to have such feelings, not that I have them, but if I were then she'd be the kind of girl who'd be most likely to inspire them." His face softened into a genuine smile. "She does make one bloody fine pirate, don't she?" His voice was tinged with pride.

Mr. Cotton nodded emphatically. Miss Elizabeth was well on her way to being on even footing with Jack himself.

"You should see how she handles a sword! Like she was born with it in her hand. You'd think she was the one who taught the boy to handle a sword, not the other was around, so she claims." He nudged Cotton again. "As if the boy could handle his own sword anyhow. I warrant he'd be a lost cause." Jack made the snipping motion he was so fond of doing when he spoke of Will.

Mr. Cotton smiled and chuckled. At least the loss of his tongue hadn't hindered him from laughing.

Jack's voice went soft again. "Ah, Mr. Cotton, there in lies the heart of the problem. Young Master Turner couldn't handle our little spitfire, nor does he deserve to. He's no better than the bloody commodore. He loves her, aye, but he loves an ideal. I venture he expects her to settle down once we're past this latest scrape and never think of the sea again."

Mr. Cotton looked empathetically at Jack, who had turned and was staring out at the sea. He caught the real meaning of Jack's words; Will would expect her to never think of Jack again.

"She couldn't do that, could she? Forget all this?" His eyes never left the ocean, but Cotton could hear the traces of desperation in his voice. Suddenly, he straightened up. "Not that I care. If she wants to go play house with some bloody blacksmith and have a whole litter of sprogs, what should it matter to me. I've got wind in my sails and the Pearl beneath my feet; what more should a man want?"

Mr. Cotton waited then. There was more, there was always more. As he was a man of few words, he had learned to be patient.

"I do bloody well care," Jack muttered. "I bloody well care if she walks off the ship with him. She belongs with here, on the decks of my ship, with me. I want her, Cotton, more than gold or wenches or fame or, God help me, rhum."

Mr. Cotton sighed. He patted Jack on the back. He remembered what it was like to be young, in love, and also to be uncertain. At that moment, his parrot fluttered down from Christ knows where and settled on his shoulder again. The moment was over.

"A bottle of rhum and I'll be right as rain in the morning, Mr. Cotton. A bottle of rhum!" Jack stumbled away and left Mr. Cotton alone to ponder what the captain had said. It was amazing what people said to someone they knew couldn't repeat a word.


	2. Chapter 2

"Mr. Cotton, would you have a moment?" Elizabeth soft voice startled him, in turn startling the parrot who had been dozing in the sun. He recovered quickly and nodded. Poor Miss Elizabeth looked positively pained.

"Have I offended Jack in some way?"

Cotton's eyebrows shot up. He shook his head back and forth rapidly, vehemently.

"Oh," her lower lip jutted out. "He's been avoiding me these last few days, which is impressive, considering we're on a ship." She paused. "I thought we were friends."

Mr. Cotton nodded, momentarily cursing his lack of tongue. Such a naïve child... It wasn't dislike that made the captain avoid her.

She turned out to face the sea, so much like Jack had done the night before. "I didn't mean for any of this. It's just... ever since I was a girl, he's all I've wanted.." Her hand flew to her mouth. "I mean what he has! What he has is all I've ever wanted!"

Mr. Cotton raised his eye brow in disbelief.

"You're correct in calling me a liar," she sighed. "I should be happy. I've had my adventure, I'm marrying a _good_ man, I have a life ahead of me. Yet, I can't help but wonder if it's what I want. Will I ever be content to lie about a house and darn socks and cook meals while Will gets child upon child on me, taking me further and further from myself with each birth?"

Mr. Cotton shrugged, a little uncomfortable. This wasn't usually the kind of talk he was privy to, especially from a lady young enough to be his child.

"Jack... Jack is different. I don't feel as though I have to pretend to be _Miss Elizabeth Swann_, daughter of the governor. He doesn't want me in prissy dresses and tight corsets," she giggled. "I daresay he'd want me in nothing at all!"

Mr. Cotton's jaw dropped. It was rare to hear a lass who spoke so plainly. He imagined Master Will blushing furiously if he'd heard those words straight from Miss Elizabeth's pretty lips.

"I don't mean to be so forward, Mr. Cotton, but it's the truth. Jack wants me for who I am, without pretenses. He's in my blood as much as the sea is, now. I'll be branded by his touch forever, even if I do go home to lead a boring, ordinary life."

Mr. Cotton's hand hovered over her back, but somehow that didn't seem the right gesture. Instead, he dropped his hand on her hair, and petted her like he would a daughter. Tears welled up in her eyes as he did.

"Oh, bugger! I want the life less ordinary! I want to stay here, the wind on my face, and I want Jack, not Will. I know it's wrong, but I can't help where my heart lies."

It was no small feat that the parrot, watching intently and still being in full possession of its tongue, had managed to keep to keep its beak shut. It loved a good bit of gossip more than the next man. Still, it kept quiet till the end to see where this lot would be cast.

"And he'll never know. I'll be stuck, home, in a pretty little house like a caged bird, pining away for him because I can't fathom hurting Will in such a way. I'm a terrible, wicked woman, Mr. Cotton, for doing such a terrible deed."

The bird fairly danced on his shoulder and Mr. Cotton gave it a stern look. This should be between the captain and the lady, not some gossipy parrot.

"Perhaps, though..." she said slowly, a smile playing on her lips. "I think I should talk to Jack before I make any rash decisions. I need to know where his heart lies before I go and make any... hasty... choices."

Mr. Cotton nodded resolutely and patted her on the head fondly. Had he been blessed with a daughter, he'd want her to be just like Miss Elizabeth. She was a good child, with a good head on her shoulders; her constance would do Jack a world of good.

Elizabeth pressed a quick kiss to his dirty cheek. "Thank you for listening, Mr. Cotton. You've done me a world of good!" She headed off towards the helm, where Jack was pretending not to watch her while pretending to steer the ship.

Mr. Cotton nodded as she retreated. A good girl, she was, and a smart one at that. He was confident that things would work out right, in the end. He felt a little twinge of pity for Master Turner, but it was not for men to meddle in the matters of fate. And between Cap'n Jack and Miss Elizabeth, that's just what it was: a matter of fate. Trying to stop their progress was akin to trying to sail through a hurricane. It was a fool's errand that would be a ruin to all in its wake. Yes, Mr. Cotton nodded resolutely to himself, it was best to let this storm run its course. They'd weathered worse on the Pearl.

The parrot, for its part, fluttered off to find the ship's other creature. That monkey just had to know this latest development!


End file.
